Lost my Mind Along the Way
by Sandy-it-is
Summary: Going to speak with Lucifer in Hell has given Sam more than he'd bargained for. Will Dean be able to face his own Demon's to help save his brother? The story takes place after Season 11 Episode 9 titled "O' Brother Where Art Thou".
1. Chapter 1

**Lost my Mind Along the Way**

The story takes place after Season 11 Episode 9 titled "O' Brother Where Art Thou".

I know beggars can't be choosers but I'm a little annoyed that the Cage Sam was tortured in is _literally_ a Cage – am I the only one that feels this way? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story!

 **.**

Sam's eyes roved around the cage, his body tense. As Lucifer stared at him intensely, his mind buzzed with panic as his own voice repeated within his head, _'This couldn't be happening!'_ '. Yet again he was trapped within the confines of a 13 by 13 foot cage with the last being on Earth (Hell) Sam wanted to be trapped with. Yet again Sam had been deceived (and convinced himself) into thinking that doing the worst thing possible was all for the greater good. ' _What in the_ Hell _was wrong with him_?' It was like no matter how many times he ran away and denied the darker side of himself, he always found himself being pulled right towards it like a friggin' Boomerang. Maybe he had well and truly lost his marbles; dropped them along the way somewhere in the past when he was (maybe a little bit more?) sane and…. Maybe there was a lesson in all this. Maybe he was just one of God's experiments; a human doomed with a life of negativity and Demon blood floating around in his veins with the will of wanting to make something good of it. _'Could it be done?_ ' Sam believed that he'd tried everything, but fate just kept dealing him a shitty hand.

As his eyes landed back onto Lucifer, he watched his lips stretch into a wide smile without the positive emotions that comes with such an expression. Sam's heart was starting to really pound. He knew the look and what it meant; the heavy silence, the eyes that remained emotionless; dead and shark-like, watching, analysing Sam, thinking of another elaborately painful way to expose his victim.

God wasn't there, was never with him to begin with (and wasn't that a huge stab in the stomach and a twist of the knife). Hope poured out from his eyes, hit the ground and disappeared. This was it. He'd come back full circle and this time he was not coming back out; the Serpent's tail had been cut off and his world had come to one final halt. This was to be his true ending – and he never got to say goodbye to his brother.

Sam felt a painful throb in his throat as he remained stock still, afraid to move or speak. He could hear the sound of Crowley's voice – it was muffled like it was coming from underwater – his words weren't distinguished. Crowley shouted at Sam to find a way out – to not say "yes". Sam didn't make a move to show that he'd even heard him. His eyes remained glued to Lucifer's silent form – his silence taunted him, knowing the quiet meant something worse was about to come and watched as the Fallen Angel's eyes began to glow an off red, the never ending smile that had become too thin and too wide, distorting the structure of his face. Sam's breaths hitched as Lucifer stretched open his mouth into a wide oval. A dark mist poured out and floated over towards him. Sam scrabbled to the other side of the cage, trying to get away from the black mass and crouched down low, covering his head with his arms.

"I told you, you were made for me. I will do what _ever_ it takes to get what belongs to me." Sam could hear Lucifer speak in his mind. "God? How pathetic… _You_ really thought He would go out of _His way_ to answer your prayers?" Lucifer's voice was rich with malice. "I was His most favourite and look where I ended up!"

The dark mist surrounded him. Sam could feel it cold and biting on his skin and as he struggled to keep it from him getting into his face, Lucifer spoke an ancient Enochian word, sharp and piercing into Sam's mind. He could feel the muscles in his body move without his control and tried in vein to fight the uncontrollable urge. With a flick of Lucifer's wrist the mist ambushed Sam and it poured into his eyes and nose. Then suddenly an explosive sensation of pain burst behind his eyes and abruptly he became overwhelmed with the memories of his time in the Cage. Memories of Sam, Adam and the Arch-Angels trapped together, forced to experience every pain, every emotion and having to witness the worst possible things happen to his half-brother. All the memories of every Hell hour spent in the Cage he could feel every sensation as though he was literally there. His body had a mantra of its own ' _pain, pain, pain…'_ with the sense of deep humiliation. At last, like a flick of a switch the pain stopped, but his senses were still ringing with phantom memory. Sam felt small tremors in his body as he laid out on his side on the cold ground from the attack. His breathing was shallow and he felt a little disassociated. Trying to sit up on trembling limbs, he looked around disorientated. He could see Crowley banging against an invisible wall and turning behind to shout at his mother. No sound could be heard from them. Then Sam looked over to his torturer. Lucifer slowly glided over towards Sam's body as he tried to sit up with his back resting on the bars of the cage. Lucifer breathed in deep and let out an exasperated sigh.

"You know, this could be all over in an instant. All you need to do is say the magic word."

Sam shook his head jerkily from side to side. "No." Sam replied hoarsely. He could taste iron on the back of his tongue; knows that he'd been screaming.

" _Fine_." Lucifer's left eye twitched, uttered the same Enochian word from before and Sam was trapped in his memories again. Somewhere beyond the pain he heard the memory of Michael's voice trying to pray his way out of the Cage. God never answered. He was worse when he prayed because the thought that God had abandoned him hurt deeply.

Michael's faith in their Father angered Lucifer. When they fought, Sam tried to protect Adam. At times like then the Cage would become too bright to see and the heat of it burned right through their skin. Sam would do his best to cover Adam but the heat was so intense his skin, muscle and bone burned away to ash until he was no more, then he would come back sitting in the same position to find that the light hadn't gone and the heavenly brothers were still raging and so he'd repeatedly burn and come back.

After the fifth time dying in the heat of Lucifer and Michael's light, Sam awoke back in the present within the summoning cage with Lucifer staring him down. Sam was back to laying on the floor again but his tremors were so much worse that it hurt his bones when trying to control them.

Sam felt disorientated but he knew where he was. ' _Still here then.'_ He thought, disappointed. Staring straight into Lucifer's eyes he replied with only a mime "No." He watched as Lucifer's features turned ugly whilst grinding his teeth. An ancient word was once again spoken and Sam found himself back under.

 **.**

During this time, Crowley bashed away at the invisible barrier that appeared between him and the cage. He could tell that Sam was doing all he could to defy Lucifer but Sam could only hold on for so long before he forgot himself and the purpose of why he was there to begin with. Crowley couldn't let Sam become possessed by Lucifer; it would destroy everything it took for him to build a new and improved Hell and the Earth would be destroyed.

He turned to his mother as she read the Book of the Damned which sat on a high molten rock as she searched its pages to find a way to weaken Lucifer and the barrier somewhat, only a little, enough for Crowley to get through. Rowena flicked through the book's ancient pages and the printed translations. She could tell that her demonic son was becoming evermore impatient and even though she enjoyed the darker things in life she didn't want to be thrown into Hell's fiery pit.

Crowley paced around the cage trying to find a crack - any weakness in the barrier but it there was none to be found. Rowena called out to him.

"Sweet Fergus, have you found a way through the barrier yet?" She asked Crowley with her hooded eyes and thick Scottish brawl. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Well of course not otherwise we wouldn't still be here!"

She tutted.

"Alright, alright calm down. I just wanted to know how my wee boy was doin', seein' as I've found us a weakening spell."

Crowley spun round and suddenly appeared beside his mother and peered at the pages. Rowena placed a crimson clawed nail at a specific page and explained to him what the spell would do. As Rowena elaborated, Crowley nodded, half listening and half trying to remember any weaknesses Angel's may have apart from their silver stakes made from Grace.

"…, so with this spell, all we need to figure out is a way through that barrier, otherwise it'll be _absolutely_ useless."

Crowley thought back to all the times he and the Winchester brothers encountered unruly Angel's (even Castiel) and what was done to entrap them. He went through the motions of memory and then remembered.

"That's it! Holy Oil traps Angels. I know the boys have some, I just need to pour a load around the barrier and I think it could diminish its strength. You can do the Weakening spell, I get Sam out of the cage and then you can send Lucifer back to _his_ bloody Cage where he belongs." Although Crowley looked pleased with himself, Rowena didn't appear to be happy about it at all. Cutting her eyes, she turned her back towards the King and sighed.

"Okay. Well, I'm going to need ingredients."

Crowley smiled and half bowed to one side. "What do you need?"

 **.**

"So, what's it going to be Sam? Want to continue with this charade, hmm?" Lucifer taunted as he relinquished his mental torture on Sam. Sam stared at the ground; he could barely keep his eyes open. He was starting to not know which side of death was reality. Inside he felt piercing cold.

"Just give it up. Say _Yes_." Lucifer pressed, frustration tinting his voice. Sam knew he was going to up the anti. But he wouldn't give in. He couldn't, the world depended on it.

"N. No." Sam managed to gurgle out. Blood poured out of his mouth and puff of black mist swirled out with it. "I, I won't l-l-let you in." Sam huffed out with all the vocal strength he could muster.

"Stop being so selfish! This isn't about you and me anymore; it's about putting dear old Auntie Amara back where she belongs! You know I'm the only one that can make that happen!"

Sam shook his head, staring at the ground. He slowly peeked a look at Lucifer through his bangs. He cleared his throat. "I know she did this to you – turned you. Corrupted you." He rasped. Lucifer rolled his tongue across his teeth.

"I was the only one that was willing to step up to the plate to do what needed to be done. _I_ was willing to take the burden of her Mark to send her away."

Sam closed his eyes, breathing steadily. "It must have been difficult. If-if you could go back, would you still have made the same sacrifice?"

Lucifer tilted his head to one side and tapped his hands pressed together as if in prayer on his pursed lips. "Good question".

As Sam sat there with his back pressed bruise hard against the bars of the cage Sam realised something. Throughout the whole torturous ordeal, Lucifer hadn't laid a single hand on him. Something about that didn't make any sense. It seemed as though he was purposely avoiding physical contact. Something like hope burst within Sam's chest as he noticed a weakness from his antagonist.Although he could barely think straight, one thing was clear - Sam had had enough of this bullshit. He needed to find a way out of the cage.

Lucifer was calm and deep in thought, so he would use that to his advantage. Turning to the side, Sam held onto the bars and struggled to pull upwards to stand on his feet. He could see Crowley and Rowena preparing something in a bowl. Crowley nicked his finger on a sharp knife and dropped a few droplets of blood into the mixture. Sam wondered if they were trying to get him out. He hoped so.

Seeing Crowley and Rowena, it reminded Sam of why he was there in Hell. ' _Yet again doing something drastic to save the world from my mess'._

Lucifer hovered behind him from the other side of the cage like a dark shadow. Maybe he was giving him some breathing space to think; to be convinced that possession was the best route. He continued to watch as Rowena chanted into her bowl and Crowley walk around the cage pouring a liquid from a red clay pot. Sam turned around to face Lucifer. There had to be a God in all this. Maybe he just needed to believe more. Sam shuffled forward across the cage closer to Lucifer. ' _Did I see right_?' Lucifer seemed to have moved further away from him. Sam walked closer until he was an arms length away from him.

"How did you defeat Amara?"

…

Dean watched a little stunned as the world continued on around him as he stood in the Park back from being transported by Amara from the lake. It was a beautiful sunny day and people walked around and chatted, going on with their business as though Dean hadn't just disappeared and reappeared like a magician. He could smell the hotdog's wafting towards his nose from the Hotdog Stand behind him. Dean may have wanted one before, but whatever hunger he had was now gone.

Mind in a haze, his feet automatically took him away from the green and towards his car parked on a busy road. Although his thoughts weren't with him his body already knew what he needed; ' _Baby'_.

…

Sam felt much better standing up but the little energy he had had him lilting slowly and so he rested his left side on the bars of the cage. The situation had changed and Sam was the one watching, waiting for answers. Lucifer took a couple of slow steps backwards and turned away from him.

"I wasn't alone, but I took on the brunt of most of her power."

Sam frowned, eyebrow muscles pressing hard against another as he thought about what Lucifer had said.

"This is personal, isn't it?"

Lucifer spoke on as if he hadn't stopped. "I had her Mark and my sword that was specially made to defeat her." He turned back to face Sam and snarled. "You think you know what sacrifice is, but you don't - what I did was for the creation of God's universe! You haven't had to spend as much time as I have down here just for doing what was right!

Lucifer's chest was heaving with emotion. "I'll admit, Amara's taint; her Mark got to me a little. But it only magnified the thoughts that I already for Father. He's a self serving, judgmental arsehole and I wasn't afraid to tell him to his face!"

"Well, Dean would tell you there's no difference between you and God."

"Dean would say the same about you and John too. I had an excuse for what I did. What's God's reason for doing the messed up things that he does?"

Sam, looked away, then remembered a mention of a special sword.

"Hey, this sword of yours, do you know where it is? Is it possible for me to use it against her?"

Lucifer smiled that painful smile again. "I'm not sure where it ended up, but I know that only you would be able to use it. Whatever belongs to me, belongs to you – even here. You could reign over Hell and all its gory inhabitants if you wanted to. Why do you think Crowley continues to let you live?" Lucifer raised a questioning brow, tilting his head to one side.

"Remember, you're still the Boy King. That will never change – it's just all up to you whether you take the throne or not."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. It couldn't be true. He thought all that was over and done with years ago. ' _Apparently not'_. Sam shook his head in denial. " _You didn't need the feather to fly…"_

"You're just trying to mess with my head. You're not. Whatever you say, I'm not going to say the word."

"Come on Sam, when have I ever lied to you, hmm?" Lucifer replied with mock empathy. "I was just starting to have confidence in you – it takes a lot for me to talk about my feelings. Don't you want to get to know the _real_ me?"

"Whatever!" Sam shouted and pointed a finger at Lucifer. "Look, I've had enough of this. You either torture the life out of me or you let me go 'cause I'm not gonna say the word you wanna hear!"

Lucifer screwed his lips and his eyes hardened. He kissed his teeth and crossed his arms while slowly leaning forward.

"You know what your problem is? You like to throw the truth around in everyone else's face but you can't take your own." Sam's shoulder tensed as he looked down. " _The boy that always ran away_ ", Lucifer sang with a nasty smirk. "Not so good when the truth catches up with you, is it?"

 **.**

Crowley paced back and forth, anxious for his mother to hurry up and finish the spell.

"Bloody Hell, how long is it going to take to finish?"

Rowena let out a slow sigh and closed her eyes tightly. "Calm down. I'm almost done."

Crowley was incredulous. "Almost done? Almost _done_? You said that fifteen minutes Earth time ago!"

"Be quiet and bring me the Goat Fergus." Crowley tutted and motioned with his hand and a chained black male Goat bleated as it was forced to move at an unnatural pace.

Rowena placed a large gold bowl on the ground before the Goat, wrapped her clawed fingers around one of its horns, tilted its head back and sliced its throat. Crowley with his power stopped it from jerking and getting away but he didn't muffle the screams. Blood poured out uncontrollably with a loud spraying noise.

As soon as the bowl was filled, Rowena dumped the stiff Goat aside, picked up the bowl and muttered a few words in Latin then poured the bloody contents into the Spell bowl. Stirring, a dark matter bubbled out from the spell's contents. Crowley watched the cage intently as he clicked his finger and thumb together creating a flame and placed it on the Holy Oil that had been poured around the barrier.

 **.**

Sam wasn't going to say "yes", but he knew without a doubt that he was going to get of the cage somehow. In his peripheral, he could see Crowley and Rowena working their magic. Sam would take the character assassinations, the taunts and the daggers of truth – he'll gladly play his game because Sam was going to rinse every ounce of information out the unholy abomination like he had set out to do. The more knowledge he had to defeat the Darkness the better.

"About this sword, how does it work – does it actually kill her?"

"I know what you're doing Sammy. I like how your mind works. Okay, _I'll play along_." Lucifer mocked. "It doesn't _kill_ her per se, but it does maim her – you stab her and the sword drives through not only the body, but also through her soul- well, whatever makes her _her_ ".

Sam nodded, soaking it all in.

"You mentioned taking on her Mark. Why did you?"

Lucifer rolled his eyes upwards thoughtfully. "I took on the Mark because, well it's complicated. To defeat her you need to know her, be a part of her - become one. I am the Light to her Dark - only light can put the dark at bay. So I'd _say…_ to know the Light is to know the Dark and to destroy the Darkness is to know it and defeat it with knowledge of Light _and_ Dark."

Sam frowned. Lucifer grinned. "Yeah I know, bit of a mind twister but I'm sure you get it."

"Where were Michael and the other Angels in all this?"

"They helped with turning on the lights."

Sam nodded. "What about God?"

"He watched". Lucifer replied curtly.

Sam sighed deeply. As he exhaled he yelped in alarm as a wall of flames suddenly appeared around the cage.

Lucifer stepped away to stand right in the middle of the cage. "Holy Oil? Really, how cliché".

…

Dean arriving at the Bunker and not finding his brother and the old hag there waiting for him was like a huge slap to the face at an unexpected moment. The sensation of nausea clung onto his insides – ' _Smiting sickness. Who knew that was a thing_?'

He paced back and forth, ringing Crowley and Sam's phone and getting "not in service". The little bitch didn't even have the decency to leave a note. Knowing exactly where his little brother had gone off to aggravated Dean's already fragile nerves. He was going to drag his brother back topside kicking and screaming if he had to. Sam had gone without him when he promised he'd wait. ' _Stubborn little brothers_ '.

Dean placed his palms together and prayed for Castiel. Dean was going to Hell and he needed backup.

…

"Sam hold on, we're going to get you out of there!" Sam just about heard Crowley's voice shout as the flames distorted his voice. He looked over to Lucifer. He looked really annoyed and yet slightly confused. ' _That was knew'._

 **.**

Rowena sliced her left palm with a short dagger, and placed it down on the large molten rock as her makeshift alter then spat into her right palm. Uttering a few words in Latin she smacked both palms together.

.

"Noooo!" Lucifer screamed ferociously. Sam wiped away the sweat from his brow and watched surprised as Lucifer grabbed at his chest. Lucifer could feel a pulling sensation and knew that he was going to be dragged back to the Cage. Above them, Crowley's true form in the shape of a black moving cloud floated over the wall of flaming Holy Oil and bashed away at the cage's lock. The broken lock fell to the ground with a loud "clink" and the door slowly opened.

Lucifer wasn't going back. He couldn't. Realising his mistake in underestimating the lowly Demon and his bitch, he walked forwards with all the strength he could muster and grabbed onto one of Sam's arms.

"Say Yes! Please" Lucifer begged.

"No! Let _go_ of me!" Sam yelled as he pulled on Lucifer's gripping hand. Lucifer was pulling him down with his weight.

"I'm not letting you go without something to remember me by!" Suddenly Sam could feel a burning sensation where Lucifer's hand held onto his arm. Sam screamed from the pain and tears poured from his eyes. Then he threw his hand out in front of his face as bright light blazed before him. Finally the weight on his arm was gone and he stumbled backwards from its absence.

Sam remained standing in the cage breathing hard and frantic. His mind hadn't registered yet that he was finally free. Crowley floated back over the flames and disappeared behind it. Sam gripped onto his bicep where Lucifer burned him. His skin felt like it had been carved with a hot knife. The tremors came back and vague thought sloshed in the back of his mind that he was in shock.

Looking around with in a daze he saw the cage door open and he could see that someone was putting the flames out. Taking one step a time he walked over to the open door. The flames now gone Crowley stood before the cage with something that looked like understanding upon his face. Rowena sulked behind as she hugged the Book of the Damned with the translations tucked between its pages. Sam stepped out a little apprehensive, unsure that he really could. He looked to the left of him and saw the molten rock alter from where Rowena once stood to do whatever she did to get him out. ' _He was not going to thank her'._ The body of a black Goat lay stiffly dead on the ground.

"I'm out?" Sam asked aloud, but was mostly said to himself as confirmation.

Crowley answered him anyway. "Yes Sam, your out. A thank you would be nice." He replied with bite. Sam only nodded.

"Do you have any idea how worried sick I was when Lucifer dragged you in there? I thought I literally would have to face the end of the world again!"

"Yeah." Sam couldn't do full sentences at the moment his mind was still stunned.

"Come on. Let's get out of here. This place is depressing me."

The three of them silently made their way out through the tunnels of Hell back to Crowley's abode.

…

Castiel stood before Dean in the Bunker's Library with concern written all over his face.

"Dean, what happened?"

Dean rubbed absentmindedly at his stomach as he explained to Castiel why he'd prayed for his help. He still felt a little queasy.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Dean. Lucifer might use you as a way to get to Sam. You know you two lose all reason when either one of you is in danger."

Dean snorted. "What, like right now?"

Castiel smiled sadly. "I believe it would be better if I went alone. I'd have a greater chance of bringing him back without any repercussions."

"No. You can't do this alone and Sam needs me!"

"What Sam needs", Castiel said, as he walked over to Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is for his brother to not throw himself into the frying pan. No good will come with both of you in danger".

Although it was difficult for Dean to admit it, Castiel was right. Castiel removed his hand from Dean's shoulder and let it fall by his side. Dean turned and then the sound of his ringtone cut through the awkwardness. He instantly reached for it from the desk, not even reading the caller ID as he pressed the green button to answer the call.

"Hey Dean, it's me." Sam breathed through the phone. Dean looked over to Castiel's questioning gaze. Dean dragged a hand down his face in exhaustion.

"Where the hell are you Sam? I thought you ditched me to go traipsing off to Hell."

Sam sighed. "Well I _was_ in Hell. I'm not anymore. I just called to let you know that I'm okay. I'll talk to you about it when I get back. Bye." Sam disconnected the call. Dean took the phone away from his ear, annoyed that he'd just been cut off. ' _Bitch_ '.

Dean pulled out a chair and sat down on it. Placing his phone back on the polished table he turned to look at Castiel.

"Is he alright?"

Dean shook his head slowly. "I don't know."

 **So what do you think? Any good? Please leave a comment – it'll be much appreciated. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The journey out of Hell towards the surface seemed to take longer than it had coming in. As Crowley, Rowena and Sam finally made it top-side, a new day had already dawned. They had been in Hell for over a day, which would have been in Hell days… Sam cut off that train of thought.

Crowley stopped them all and they stood before a wall with engraved symbols. He placed a hand upon one of them; large and swirling, pressing his palm into it firmly and it began to glow brightly. The wall started to shift creating an opening to Earth.

As they stepped through they found themselves in an empty room, with no windows and a single dark stained door. The opening behind them shifted back into place, once again becoming a wall.

"Finally, I'm back home." Crowley said. Sam huffed, nonplussed.

Rowena breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh oxygen.

"God, I hadn't realised how stuffy it was down there."

Crowley opened the door to the room with Sam and Rowena in tow, leading them down a hallway that had a couple of other doors. Sam heard a high pitched scream coming from one of them. As the hallway ended it opened up to the throne room. Crowley stopped and turned to face Sam.

"Do you need a lift?" Crowley asked Sam, stopping him in his tracks. The burning pain in his bicep had calmed down to a quiet throb.

"No. I'm good."

"Going to steal instead I'm guessing." Crowley smirked. Sam's jaw line twitched.

Crowley turned his mouth upside down. "Suite yourself." Pulling his phone from his pocket, Sam found numerous missed calls from Dean. He placed the phone back in his pocket and looked at Crowley who was sitting on his throne. Crowley placed something into his own pocket as he watched Sam intently.

"Me too, Squirrel must have been worried sick."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Need help finding the way out?"

"Nah. I'm good." Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks. For everything". He made sure to look Crowley in the eyes.

"Well don't hurt yourself Sam."

Sam huffed only half amused. He watched as Rowena turned to walk away with the Book of the Damned within her clasped hands.

"I don't think so!" He ripped the Book out from her grasp. Crowley was suddenly in front of him, stopping Rowena from casting a curse. Sam tucked the Book inside his jacket and watched as Rowena clasped at her throat unable to make a sound. Crowley watched her in mock sympathy.

"Can't have you running around with that Book. You're enough trouble as it is." He turned to Sam. "Leave!"

Sam didn't waste any time and disappeared from the King of Hell's view down a dark hallway.

As he made his way out, he thought about his time in Hell. Something wasn't right – it was more than meeting Lucifer in the flesh again – he just couldn't put his finger on it. He had made it - he'd done what he'd set out to do. But why did he feel so, _wrong_? He wasn't sure but he knew one thing; he needed to call his brother.

 **...**

Sam stole a car and drove as steadily as possible. He didn't want to see his brother anytime soon. He knew when he got to the Bunker, Dean and Castiel would be sitting at the Library desk waiting for him.

As soon as he arrived, Dean verbally poked and prodded and Sam was too exhausted to explain the full details.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

Sam looked at his left hand holding his right bicep. "I burnt it. Don't worry, I'll get it cleaned up."

Castiel stepped towards Sam. "I could heal it for you."

Sam stepped back, keeping away from Castiel's touch. His had remained clasped to the burn. "No!" Realising that he seemed to be freaking out, he instantly calmed his tone. "No. It's fine…. it's fine. Thanks."

Dean tried to keep his worried face in check.

"Hey, you hungry? Want something to drink? You must be starving!" Dean was already peddling his way towards the kitchen to make him something.

"No-Dean, it's okay." Dean stopped, listening. "I'm just mostly tired. I'll eat later." Sam sighed. "I'm gonna get cleaned up and hit the sack."

Dean looked down trying not to show his concern. He nodded in understanding. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead. We can talk later."

Sam nodded and walked past Castiel, who had remained mostly silent throughout the whole ordeal, watching him with a strange expression; his eyes seemed to be searching.

Sam took his chance to get away.

 **.**

Finally Sam could breathe. He supposed if he had come back after a disappearing act on a normal hunt Dean wouldn't have let him go as easily. Coming back from Hell allowed him to keep his distance.

In the bathroom, he turned the shower on and got undressed. Slowly peeling the shirt sleeve away from the now dried bloodied wound he couldn't see anything specific other than an ugly mass of damaged flesh (some parts he could see were open) and dead tacky blood. He hopped straight into the falling water, the temperature as hot as he could stand. It scolded good feeling extra clean and burning away the smell of Hell.

Ten minutes later he switched the shower off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. Wiping the condensation off the mirror above the bathroom sink he looked into it and stared at his reflection. Something flashed within his eyes. It was too fast for him to establish what it was exactly but as it happened he hissed as a burning sensation ignited from the burn on his bicep. He took a step back to and put his arm before the mirror - there before his very eyes was the Mark of Cain. Amara's Mark. The Mark of the Darkness. The same one his fool brother had signed himself up for and now he stood in front of the mirror staring at its reflection upon his very own arm. ' _What the Hell?"_

There was no way he was going to tell Dean – well not yet. He needed to get rid of the Mark, _then_ he'd tell him – or not. With it gone and not mentioned, Dean couldn't be pissed off at him. There wouldn't be any further repercussions from removing the Mark because Amara was already let out of her box. A pressure was beginning to build in his head and then he heard Lucifer's voice.

"You can't get rid of it; it was created by my Grace. What I give you, you're body will just hold onto it."

Sam looked around the room, brows frowning hard from the pressure in his head. Both hands held onto the rim of the sink. " _What_? How did you-?"

"My Grace. When I held onto you to give the Mark, it took with it some of my Grace. It's much easier now for me to get into your head. I can even project myself, although I'd be useless Angelically. Anyway, I don't think you'd appreciate it right now and well, I'm a bit spent after being forced back into the Cage so..."

"You're damn right I wouldn't!" Sam heaved.

"Now, now," Lucifer tutted. "Calm down. You're not gonna want the Mark take a hold of you in you're most fragile state."

"Why the hell did you give me the Mark?"

Lucifer sighed. "To defeat Amara of course… you were right Sam, it _is_ personal."

Then the pressure was gone. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and swayed a little, slightly dizzy and grabbed the sink for equilibrium. " _Christ_!" Not only did he have to deal with the Mark, he now had Lucifer's Grace and him popping up into his head whenever he felt like it. Sam went to Hell to get some answers and answers he got, but he didn't want this. What was he going to do? He couldn't hide all this from Dean forever. At some point he was going to need his help and now he was a burden to his brother all over again. ' _Dean doesn't need this.'_ Sam thought.

"Damn it!"

The Mark made a slight twinge.

…

Dean had already done the maths; over a day on Earth was over 4 months in Hell. Mind boggling as it was, Dean knew – had been there and experienced its endless depravity that stretched out time. Sam had been there for four months and was pretending that he was mentally unharmed. Dean knew different. Things had changed with him; trying too hard to act normal, laughing at his jokes and he now had new found tick that would have him unconsciously rubbing at his bicep. He spent a lot of his research time in his room and tried his damndest to steer clear from talking too much. Dean knew he was keeping something to himself – something had happened in the cage, something terrible, he knew that for sure; he just hoped that Sam would tell him sooner rather than later.

For a week Sam would only see Dean in the kitchen for breakfast or for a coffee top-up, but come Lunch and Dinner time, he was in his room, researching. By day eight Dean was desperately looking for a hunt so that they could get back on track. Dean needed something to kill.

Dean was startled awake by a loud noise, waking him up from a stressful night's sleep. He dreamt of Amara's soft lips upon his; her Darkness enshrouding the world, dispelling any source of light. Rubbing at his eyes he placed his feet into his slippers, put on a men of letters robe and went to find the source of disruption. The closer he got to the Library, the clearer he could hear the sound of his brother's voice. He sounded annoyed. Keeping out of sight, he watched Sam in the Library, pulling out a book from a shelf. His brother's back was faced towards him, oblivious of Dean's presence.

"…No, I'm not going to bring Castiel into this!" Sam flicked through the book's pages and his hand stopped mid turn of a page. "…because he'll know, _that's_ why. Now fuck off!"

Dean watched him in surprise; he could see enough to know that Sam wasn't on his phone. Sam swayed on his feet and put a hand out on the shelf to steady himself and took in deep breaths, exhaling slowly. Immediately, he went to rub at the burn on his right bicep.

Dean walked further into the Library wondering whether he should pretend that he didn't just see what he just saw or if he should finally use it to his advantage, forcing his brother to open up.

"Hey, Sam, you okay?"

Sam whipped around in surprise. Obviously he had thought he was alone.

He stopped rubbing at his arm and walked over to the table and placed the book down on its polished surface. Hair fell in front of his face as he tilted his head down.

Dean walked over and stood on the other side of the table.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure, 'cause it seemed like you were about to face plant." Dean countered while raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yeah well, I've been really hitting the books so I'm a bit exhausted."

Dean nodded. He wasn't going to bring up the scene from before. ' _Later._ '

Sam took a seat and looked up at Dean.

"Anyway, how you doing. Smiting sickness gone?" Sam pulled the book towards him.

Dean rubbed his stomach on reflex.

"Yeah. Good as new." Sam looked up to check with his eyes whether Dean was lying. Dean looked at him, pointedly. "By the way, well done on changing the subject."

Sam snorted. "You're welcome."

Dean rested his hands onto the back on one of the chairs.

"We need a hunt brother. We've been cooped up here for too long…" Dean looked into his brothers eyes. For a moment he thought he saw a flash of fear in Sam's eyes.

"No, not until we find _something_ that can—"

"That can what Sammy? You've been in your room for days – partly trying to avoid me," Dean put his hand up to stop Sam from contradicting him. "I know what you're doing; you're planning-researching, trying to find a way to stop Amara from destroying the world – I know that – I'm with you on that, but you were just in Hell, with Lucifer again… that must have been _really_ difficult. It took a lot of balls to do what you did." Dean released a slow breath.

"I thought, you were down there alone again and when I found out you were in Hell, I was about to jail break you the hell out!" Dean rubbed his hand onto his mouth, eyes remembering. "I'm glad you're safe and back here but seeing you locking yourself away in your room and obsessing isn't doing you any good. We need to hunt," Dean chuckled. "I need to friggin' hunt man."

Sam stared at the book in his hands. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to worry about me you know?"

Dean nodded. "I get it. Now, I'm starving. What time is it?"

Sam pulled his dark blue shirt cuff back to check his watch. "It's six to."

Dean clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Perfect time for breakfast!" Sam rolled his eyes.

 **.**

Traipsing off to the kitchen to make them some breakfast, Dean noted how low their ingredients were getting. ' _Need to get some shopping_ '. With two plates in each hand piled with a hearty meal, he went into the Library to offer Sam his food but he was gone.

…

Dean made a run to the store to by some food and some spices (and a huge bag of salt that filled up half of his trolley) for the Bunker. Walking about the "Home" isle in the store, he threw in a couple of cotton blankets in his trolley. His phone began to ring. Pulling his phone from out of his jacket pocket he looked at the caller ID, not recognising the number.

"Who is this? How'd you get this number?"

A cigarette smoke damaged male voice answered. "Hello, I'm Jason Fleming, I, er, a mutual hunter friend of ours named Mackey. He gave me your number. Is this really Dean I'm speaking to?"

Dean looked around. People carried on shopping. A mother pushed a large trolley as a young child repeatedly hopped inside, the collected items bouncing with every jump.

"Yeah. What do you want?"

Jason breathed heavily. "There's a hunt. A bunch of Vampires – about a dozen of them – have taken residence at my farm." Jason choked up. "They,- I live in the middle of nowhere. My wife, they took my wife! I need your help, _please_."

"Well why can't Mackey do it?"

"He's currently on a hunt of his own. He said you and your brother would be best for the job."

Dean nodded to himself. "Alright. Just send me your address and we'll be on our way."

"I'm staying at a hotel."

"Okay, we'll see you there." Dean ended the call. Vampire hunting was just what he and Sam needed.

…

At first, going on the hunt seemed like a really awesome idea. A simple hunt to get the brother's out of the Bunker (Sam out of his room), Dean back out there doing what he does best – nothing to do with God or Amara and everything else that came with them; just normal hunting.

It started out great. Jason had sent them the address to the hotel and the number of his room and when they'd arrived he had greeted them very humble and grateful for their help. He had even paid for their room; two king sized beds, everything clean and the room smelled good. Jason showed them a picture of his wife taken from his wallet; staring back at them with a big smile was a pale skinned woman with blue eyes and long dark tresses. He explained as much as he could everything that had happened when the vampires came.

"We were in bed at the time." He rubbed his palms together as he remembered. "I woke up to go the bathroom, went to put my lamp light on and there was this young man – looked round about yous two age – over my wife." He stopped to get a grip of his emotions. "I don't remember how it got into my hand but I do remember pointing my pistol which I usually keep in my bedside drawer at this young man and shooting him straight into the back of his head, but…-".

"He wasn't affected by the bullet." Dean added. Jason nodded in agreement.

"He wasn't and I soon realised he wasn't human. More of them turned up. They taunted me and drank from my wife. I tried to protect her but they where too strong and, you know, I'm no Hunter."

"It's okay. The experts are here now." Dean reassured him.

He smiled sadly and shook his head. "I didn't know how or what to do. I begged for them to take my life instead of Emily's but they told me that my blood was impure. They don't like smoker's blood. I've never felt so _frustrated_ and so _defeated_ in all my life. I didn't protect Emily like I should have." He choked up from bubbling emotion.

"Those animals threw me out of my own window and left me for dead and now I have to hope that Emily's alive." Jason's eyes were filling up. "She has to be; she's all I have in the world!"

"We'll do our best to get her back to you, alright." Sam comforted him.

Jason sniffed and cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"Could you describe to us who you think the ring leader may be?" Sam asked Jason, leaning forward. Dean nodded to Jason for him to answer.

Jason sniffed and one hand rubbed at his lips in thought. "An older woman, I think in her fifties. Tall, sharp Slavic features. She didn't speak much, she just mostly watched, but I remember her saying someone's name and noticing how deep and husky her voice was."

"That's good. It's something to go on."

"Why'd you ask?"

Sam answered. "Being the ring-leader makes her the alpha of the nest. She's the strongest and the fastest of them all. _Much_ more challenging to kill."

 **.**

The brothers gave Jason a machete for protection, told him how to use it and left him at his hotel room to hunt.

Under a late afternoon sky, they drove slowly down the dirt track towards the farm house; they could see the lights on shining through gaps between the curtain windows. Dean stopped the car beside a corn field, making sure the car couldn't be seen from the view of the house. Dean popped open the trunk and they stepped out of the car to get their machetes.

They walked steadily towards the back of the house, trying to keep themselves hidden, their hearts beating with excitement from the hunt. They could see a boarded up window on the top floor; the brother's guessed that may have been they bedroom window where Jason was thrown out from. Just below were a couple piles of old hay and thick bush that hadn't been trimmed for a good while. Jason had been really lucky.

There at the back door a couple of Vampire's were making out with each others faces, wet kissing noises travelled towards the brother's ears. Wasting no time at all, Sam and Dean ambushed the Vampire lovers, effectively cutting their heads off clean. Neither of them had a chance to scream. ' _Two down, ten more to go_.'

Stepping over the decapitated bodies, Sam checked the back door handle of the farm house to see whether it was already open. It twisted open smoothly. The brother's looked at each other knowingly.

" _Alright. On three_ …" Dean mimed. Sam nodded, body at the ready.

On three they burst through the door. Entering into a kitchen, their presence instantly startled three Vampiric occupants. Sharp teeth bared they threw themselves at the brothers attacking with super strength and sharp nails. One female Vampire punched Dean in the gut, making him double over from the pain. He was momentarily blinded; the punch had instantaneously forced the oxygen out of his lungs and it left him gasping for air. Through teary eyes, he could see her head fall to the ground before him. The top of her head from the forehead-up was missing. Dean felt Sam's large hand rest onto his shoulder.

"You okay?" Sam asked, concerned.

Dean slowly stood up straight, exhaled loudly and bunched up his sore abs. "Yeah, I'll be fine." Three corpses where slain on the ground and Sam was already running off to kill some more. None of them was Emily Fleming.

"Come on!" Sam's voice boomed.

Dean followed.

Three more Vampire's came running down the stairs as the brothers entered a hallway that lead to a Living room and the front door. Dean made sure to slice one of the heads off before they managed to take a swing. Taking another swing at a male Vampire, he managed to slice into its chest.

"Close, but not close enough." It sneered, mouth full of teeth. "I'm gonna bathe in your blood, human." It leapt. Dean made a quick move to the side, spun round and plunged his machete into its stomach. Dean stared unwaveringly into its eyes as it gurgled on its own blood.

"You think you've killed me?"

"No."

Dean pulled the machete out and with one swift move sliced the head off its shoulders. The body instantly collapsed to the ground following its fallen head. The Vampire's brown eyes moved around in its sockets.

" _Gross_."

Looking around, he realised he was alone. He traipsed up the stairs, hoping that

he was following his brother's footsteps, walked across the top landing and searched all four of the rooms. One of them was obviously Jason and Emily's bedroom. Walking in, instantly he could see the broken window. A couple of their wedding photos lined the walls, two others were of Jason standing beside a large chocolate stallion. Another was of a woman with Emily's smile and skin standing with a man who had his arm around her shoulders posing before the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The bed sheets were left askew with large blood stains; Cigarette butts, clothes, shoes and other items had been thrown about the room and left all over the floor. Analysing the furnishings of the bedroom, Dean could see that at some point the room had been a place of comfort. ' _Vampire's have no respect.'_ Not finding his brother he jogged down the stairs and made for a door. Stepping towards the Living room door which was now not only closed, but locked, he could hear keening sounds coming from behind it. Someone was also bawling. Dean banged a fist on the door loudly.

"Sam? You in there?" he asked. No one answered him back. Now someone was begging.

"What the hell's going on in there?" Dean shouted. He bashed away at the door with his shoulder, but it wouldn't budge. He stopped to catch a breath and then started to slam his right foot into the door. Crunching noises were made as the wood of the door attached to its frame began to split.

"Come on, _come on._ " Dean coaxed. With one final slam the door swung open fast and slammed onto the Living room wall.

There was blood literally everywhere. It covered the walls; the ceiling had splatters of it. A rug was saturated with liquid iron. A Vampire was half on a sofa and half on the ground with most of the skin from the torso and face stripped off. Dean stepped over towards it and noticed that it looked like it was made to eat its own skin. The neck had a jagged line through it from where it had been sliced, but a piece of muscle kept it attached to the body. Dean cut it and the rest of its body slipped down further to the floor.

"Sam?" he called. He walked passed another two dead decapitated bodies, none of which fit the description of either the ring leader or Emily Fleming's features. Both of their bodies had been hacked repeatedly to the point he could see their destroyed insides coming out. Broken bones on almost every part of the body jutted out through the flesh. Dean began to sweat; worried that he would find his brother the same way.

"Sam! Answer me!"

Holding his machete up, he could hear a "thumping" sound and Dean made his way towards it. Rounding a dark corner of the living room where a small dining table sat, there he found his brother stabbing repeatedly with his machete on an already dead body. It was made unrecognisable.

"Sam, what the hell are you doing?" Grabbing at his brother's arm with both hands to stop him from making another jab, Sam strained to pull out of the grip. His brother's eyes were dark. Distant. Dean recognised the look.

"Sam just stop! It's done, they're all dead!"

Dean watched with wide eyes as his brother breathed raggedly, releasing his hold on the machete. It "clinked" onto the floorboards.

"You good?" Dean asked worriedly. He observed his brother's clothes which were saturated in Vampire blood and pieces of body flesh.

Sam rubbed at the bicep and began to nod. "I will be. Just give me a minute." It sounded like he had to force the words out.

Dean stepped away and looked around the room and realised that Sam had been the one that tortured and destroyed the Vampire's to death. Dean felt real fear for his brother right then. This was overkill.

 **...**

Dean was really scared. He'd dealt with angry-grieving-vengeful Sam, Sam with powers, deceptive Sam, addicted to Demon blood Sam, soulless Sam, suicidal Sam, mental breakdown Sam but he had _never_ dealt with murderous-overkill Sam. Dean was out of his depth.

The destroyed body of Sam's last victim was the female ring-leader; that much Sam could say to Dean. Afterwards they separated, looking around the premises for Emily; the whole house (also making sure to check for any stragglers), they walked about the grounds, the large barn, startling the horses with their torches. All they had found in the end was a thick rope that had seemingly been used to tie someone up and had been cut into with a rusty saw sitting on the dirty floor of an old mouldy shed. The shed wall also had a broken opening, the attached wood shards bending outwards. Maybe this had been the last place Emily had been. In the end they gave up the search and dealt with the bodies.

The brothers dug a large trench making a mass grave and threw the dead Vamps in, stacked dry kindling and wood around the bodies (all from Jason's outside store), poured salt and gasoline on them and set light to the corpses. The flames kept them warm from the night chill.

 **.**

It was the morning; light in the sky gradually coming in from the East. The brothers were on their way back to the hotel to meet Jason.

Sam sat with his body tense, sitting with clean emergency clothes on (which they always took with them on a hunt) having burned the severely bloodied ones. They hadn't said a single word to each other, Dean not ready to broach the subject that was on the tip of his tongue about his brother's mental state and Sam was just trying to quieten his mind from the stress of what he'd done.

Fifteen minutes through their journey, a person hobbled onto the road. Dean instinctively stomped on the brakes and the car skidded to a halt. The brother's heavy breathed from the shock of almost knocking someone over. They stared at the shivering wreck through the windshield mirror and realised they were staring into the frightened eyes of Jason's wife, Emily, wrapped up in a thick purple blanket.

"Please, I need help." She pleaded, hoarsely.

Both brother's stepped out of the car. ' _Thank God'._ Dean thought. Sam had his right hand hiding behind his side.

"We know who you are, Emily. Your husband sent us to help you." Dean put his hands out to show he wasn't a threat. Dean looked over at Sam whose eyes never wavered from Emily. Predator-like. ' _Creepy_ _ **.'**_

"Are you alright? How long have you been here?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure." Emily looked back from where she came. "They – those things – they, they tied up my wrists and locked me in the tool shed for hours, cutting me. I was so afraid." She sniffed and her eyes leaked. "Is Jason _okay_?" She asked, scared.

Dean nodded, confirming his safety. "Yes, he's doing alright. He's mostly worried about you. How did you escape?"

"I used the tools in the shed to cut the rope from my wrists." She pulled the blanket around herself tighter. "Then I smashed a hole in the shed wall. Its old damp wood and I wanted to survive… then I ran and I didn't stop 'till I couldn't see the farm no more."

Dean took a step forward. "That's good – you did good. Did any of them bite you anywhere?"

She looked down, frowning. Then she nodded. "Yes. On my throat. Why? Is it bad? Am I infected – did they infect me?"

Dean's eyes quickly glanced at Sam then back to Emily's. "It's okay, calm down… Were you _fed_?"

She looked between the brothers, scared and confused. "What?"

"Did they feed you blood?" Sam asked.

Dean could see in his peripheral Sam inch closer. "I don't know. It tasted like blood." She started to cry. "I tried to stop them but they wouldn't. They were too strong. Everything is so loud and too bright. I need to be with Jason."

Dean assured her with a lie. "You will, you will."

"Are you thirsty?" Sam asked.

She nodded fast and jerkily. "Yes. I'm _so_ thirsty. I drank water from a small stream out here… but it didn't quench the thirst." She sobbed.

The brothers looked at each other knowingly.

"I'm sorry." Sam said to her and before she could ask why he instantly lobbed her head clean off. Blood spurted out from the stump as the torso collapsed heavily to the ground.

' _Great! Another dead body and a grieving spouse to deal with.'_ Dean thought.

…

It had been very difficult for the brother's to tell Jason what had happened to Emily. Instantly, when he opened the door to his Hotel room for the brother's and saw their defeated faces, he knew he'd be getting bad news; though knowing hadn't made the finality of their word's about his wife's death any less difficult to hear.

"It was too late for her; she'd already been turned into one of them." Jason kept the tears at bay with great resolve, even when they explained leaving her corpse hidden behind the bank parallel to the road, left for him to decide what to do with Emily's body.

"It's better this way. She would never have wanted to become some monster." He looked at the brothers with teary eyes.

They told him about the crime scene he'd have to clean up at the farm house and the products to use to really clean up the stains and then they left him on his own to go to their own room.

 **.**

As soon as the brother's stepped foot into their hotel room, they instantly realised how exhausted they were. Whilst Sam got cleaned up in the shower, Dean went downstairs into the breakfast hall to grab them something to eat and drink.

Both cleaned up from the hunt and fed, they cleansed and blessed their machete's, closed the window curtains and slept.

…

"How did it feel?" Lucifer asked with surly lips.

"I'm not doing this with you. Get out of my head!" Sam shouted.

Lucifer pressed on. "It felt good didn't it? Knowing you – knowing me, you probably blacked out. That good, hmm?"

"Those Vamps were evil but they didn't deserve what I did to them!"

Sam stayed as far away from Lucifer in the cage as he could. Some reason, Adam was sitting in one corner staring into space.

"Why am I here?" Sam demanded. Lucifer clasped his hands together and sighed.

"As you can see, I'm stuck here with your pathetic half brother. Michael's not here to mess with and you're all the fun there is. You also do have a special token of mine, one that I want to hone into good use."

Sam's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about—?" Touching his arm absentmindedly he realised what Lucifer was referring to. ' _Oh'._ "The Mark."

"Yes."

Sam took a step forward and held out his arm. "Take it back, I don't want it! It's dangerous!"

"No can do, Sammy."

Sam huffed in frustration. "Can't or won't?"

Lucifer smirked. "Which do you think?"

Sam let out a frustrated sigh and turned away from Lucifer. He pulled at his hair.

"I've been doing a _lot_ of research about your sword. There aren't in any of the text's I've found and what Castiel found about the Darkness. I can't find anything!"

"Tell Castiel. He can go places you can't." Sam shook his head angrily.

"I already told you I'm _not_ bringing Castiel into this!"

Lucifer rolled his tongue on his teeth. " _Fine_. If you don't want to ask my little fallen Angel for help, that's up to you. And it really is up to you."

"What do mean?" Sam turned back around to face Lucifer.

Lucifer nodded knowingly at Sam. "You know."

Sam hung his head. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Lucifer asked stepping towards him. "Listen. I will be your guide pointing you in the right direction."

"No!"

"I'm an _Angel_ Sam - I'm not some demonic skank. Ruby doesn't know my precious like I do."

Sam glimpsed at his brother. Adam blinked sluggishly a couple times and then gurgled. Blood bubbled at the corner of his lips but he remained still, seated on the hard cold ground.

"I said no!"

"You'll come round soon. Great minds think alike." Lucifer walked over to Adam and petted his hair. He looked up staring straight at Sam, his eyes ablaze. "Wake up, Sam."

 **.**

"Wake up, Sam."

Sam heard his brother speak. Sitting up, he rubbed his face. Lucifer's glowing eyes were imprinted into his psyche. Looking around the room, his eyes landed upon his brother who was seated on a wooden chair facing towards him with his arms crossed.

"You awake?" Dean asked. Sam couldn't tell what mood his brother was in.

Sam yawned and swung his legs from out of the bed.

"You okay?" Sam asked, testing the waters.

Dean huffed and looked down at his lap, then back at his brother.

"I don't know how to answer that, Sammy." His voice wavered fractionally. Sam's attention was fully on his brother after hearing that.

"Sammy, something is really wrong here. With you." He shook his head. "What you did to those Vamps… is it Hell?"

Sam's body instantly tensed. He was afraid of how his brother would react if he were to know the truth. But then if he didn't tell Dean then all he'd have to talk to would be Lucifer. Not only couldn't he go through that again, but also this time it would be much, _so_ much worse because he was real and not a creation from a post-traumatized mind and soul.

"No Dean. It's not Hell." He replied, cautiously. Taking a deep breath he rolled up his right arm sleeve. The bulk of the sleeve sat into his armpit.

"Then what is it Sam? You're freaking me out here!" Dean sat forward, elbows resting onto his knees.

Sam stood up and showed Dean his bicep. He watched the many emotions that shifted across his brother's face. Dean was stopped on mortified.

Dean stood up. "How the hell did you get that? _Wait_ , it was Lucifer wasn't it?" Dean breathed heavily.

"How did you know?" Sam asked.

"It's pretty obvious that Lucifer is the only other that could give you the Mark since Amara's not around and you we're last with him. Did you ask for this?" Dean was suddenly angry with him.

Sam became angry from such a question. "Of course I didn't!"

"Then why did he give it to you?"

"Believe it or not, he gave it to me to defeat Amara. He wants to help!"

Dean rubbed at his face. "This cannot be happening right now. This is crazy! This Mark will destroy Sam, you get that right?" Dean walked around his chair and went to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He gulped it in one. "Did you ask him to get rid of it at all?"

"How crazy do you think I am _Dean_? Of course I did! He said no." Sam rubbed at the Mark and Dean watched him.

"God I should have known. I thought you had a nervous tick. The Mark is like a constant itch. I rubbed at it all the time." Dean shook his head. "It's gonna get worse."

Sam sniffed and looked at the ground. "That's not all."

Dean laughed humourlessly. "Of course it's not."

"Lucifer can get into my head whenever he wants."

"Oh great! This just gets better and better! When were you even gonna tell me all this, huh? When it was too late?"

Sam hung his head. He should have known that Dean wouldn't have taken the news about the Mark well. When his brother was angry at him, he knew it was because he was actually afraid for him. ' _Hopefully not of him too'_. Three small but firm taps hit the door to their room, breaking the awkward silence between the brothers. Dean went to open the door after checking through the peephole.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything." Jason asked Dean as he opened the door.

"No, we only just woke up. Come on in." Dean reassured him and stepped aside. Jason walked into the room. Dean shut the door and offered him a seat.

"No, thanks, I'm not staying long. I just came over to say that I'm grateful for what you young men have done for me." Jason cleared his throat. "My brother, he's actually the sheriff 'round here, and ah, I called him. told him about what happened, so he knows. He encountered a ghost before – it's how we met Mackey. Anyway, he's gonna help keep my name clean and out of the papers, for you know… for Emily's death." Dean nodded, pleased for the guy.

"That's great. Your brother is really sticking his neck out for you."

Jason nodded sadly. "He sure is. I'm lucky to have him."

The brothers said their final goodbyes to Jason and Dean closed the door behind him. The awkward atmosphere was back. The digital clock on the bedside table flicked to 5:45 PM, the glow printed onto Sam's lenses. Dean finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you. It's not your fault for what Lucifer done."

Sam shook his head. "You don't need be sorry."

"No Sam, I do. You were there for me when I had the Mark. I mean, I'm getting on my high horse but at the end of the day, I chose to take it. You didn't." Dean walked over to Sam's bed and sat next to him. "I'm gonna help you get through this. Who else better than me, right?"

Sam huffed. "I don't know how. With the Vamps, I totally blacked out. What if I do the same to you? I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"You will Sam, you'll know what to do. You just need to listen to me and I'll guide you through it."

Sam's brows furrowed and his heart began to beat faster. Lucifer had said the same words to him. Was he still dreaming? "It's you isn't it? _Lucifer_? I told you to get out of my head!"

Dean watched as Sam instantly stood up and backed away from him. "Sam?"

"You're pretending to be Dean. I'm not gonna fall for it!"

Dean stood up. "Sam, you need to calm down!"

Dean could see the Mark starting to glow on his brother's arm. Sam was breathing heavily and it was plain to see that no matter what he said, Sam wasn't going to be calming down. ' _Okay'_. Dean walked over to Sam and punched him square in the jaw, instantly knocking him out. His brother dropped and Dean caught his fall. Hoisting him from the armpits, Dean dragged his brother and threw his body onto his bed.

"I told you, I'm gonna help you Sammy."

Dean picked up a pizza leaflet and called the Delivery number.

 **.**

So, what do you think? Please tell me your thoughts. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

During the first hour of the drive back to the bunker, the brother's barely spoke to each other; their brief sentences lacking in substance. Sam sat in the driver's seat and steered the steering wheel with white knuckles, trying to avoid looking over at Dean.

Previously, Sam had woken up on his motel room bed after being decked out from his brother's fist; a purple fist-shaped bruise was decorated on his left jaw. Upon seeing Dean, his anger had risen again and the Mark began to burn brightly. Dean had sat at the table that sat between the front door and their beds watching Sam pensively as he observed the slight physical changes of his brother; Sam's eyes shifting from blue to glowing orange (almost like flames) and the Mark that began to glow through his white long-sleeved shirt. Sam moved quick, rushing his brother, almost knocking over the pizza boxes and beer bottles that littered the table in the process and went on the attack, punching him whenever Dean couldn't deflect. After a minute Sam suddenly just stopped, his fist held in mid-punch, staring into nothing.

"Sam?" Dean called through a split lip.

Sam remained unresponsive. " _Sam_?" Dean watched as Sam's fist loosened and dropped to his side slowly, still not mentally in the room. Dean's breathing picked up. "Sammy!"

Sam blinked slowly, then shook his head side to side with a small frown and gasped. It was like he was seeing his brother's beaten face for the first time. He realised he was the culprit, the one that had inflicted the beatings upon his brother. Sam took a few steps away from him with glassy eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. I-I just blacked out. I don't even remember doing this to you!"

"It's okay, Sam."

Sam brows creased together. "No! No it's not!" He replied adamantly.

' _Talk about give someone whiplash!'_ Dean had thought at the time, totally sore in the face and mid section. Sam wouldn't look at him after that.

…

Dean had given the car keys to Sam, who had taken them with apprehension. He thought it would be good for his brother to be mentally occupied so he'd have fewer things to worry about other than just getting them home safely. Dean tried to relax himself after taking a couple of pain relievers in the passenger seat thinking about his time possessed by the Mark. He realised that Sam seemed to fold under the Mark's power much quicker and easier than he had done. This wasn't good. He needed to train his brother otherwise he'd sink further into its corruption and murder everyone in his sight.

Dean cleared his throat and took a quick look at his brother's face. "Hey, Sam?"

Sam kept his eyes on the road as he answered. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking... when I first had the Mark, it didn't affect me as much as it does you."

"I know." Sam continued to keep his gaze on the road.

"I don't know why, all I know is that it's dangerous. For you, me and others – we gotta find a way for you to reign it in somehow 'cause you seem to go off at the drop of a hat!" Dean chuckled nervously.

Sam frowned and took a quick glance at Dean. "How?

Dean sighed. "See, I can tell you're already annoyed."

Sam breathed deeply. "Look, I'm sorry for how I reacted earlier. It was uncalled for. I shouldn't have wailed on you like that when you were just trying to help me."

"So you remember?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam replied. "Just snippets here and there of feelings; betrayal is what I felt the most and anger fuelled it." Dean nodded knowingly. "I remember you knocking me out when I was freaking out on you, so I more or less put two and two together." Sam took his eyes away from the road to look at Dean with honest eyes. "I'm sorry."

Dean huffed loudly without sarcasm, but with sadness. "Yeah, you've already said that. All's forgiven okay." Sam nodded small and his jaw jerked from side to side with emotion. Dean looked at Sam. "Earlier, when you wailed out on me, you just… stopped like someone turned off a switch. You blanked out on me." Dean frowned. "Where'd you go?"

Dean watched as his brother's shoulders tensed. "What do you mean?"

Dean could see him clamming up. "Don't Sammy, you know what I mean. Your eyes – you looked like you were gone."

"I –."

Dean sat up straighter in the passenger seat, waiting for his brother's explanation.

"It was Lucifer. He stopped me."

" _What_?" Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut again, his surprised voice coming out as a whoosh.

Sam sniffed dryly. "Lucifer knows how to _help_ me with it."

Dean was dumbfounded. " _Oh_ _ **.**_ So now you're taking advice from the Prince of friggin' Darkness?" Dean almost shouted. This was absolutely over him.

"It's not like that Dean!"

"Then how _is_ it Sam? Enlighten me!" Dean's heart was pounding. He knew he shouldn't be angry but old habits die hard; that was how he dealt with bad news.

"There's a lot you don't know. Too much for me to explain to you right now." Sam sighed. "The Devil doesn't lie Dean; when he says he's trying to help me - he means it. He has way more knowledge than I do about this, even more than you and Cain put together. I can't let it become a burden for you Dean."

"And so Lucifer is your go-to guy now? Give me a break Sam. You should know better than anyone else he's full of it." Dean was fully twisted round in his seat his full attention on his brother. "He's trying to get into your head Sammy, trying to _convince you_ that all you have is him and it's working!"

Sam took the first car-park that he could see; a closed SuperMart with the lights on for morning cleaners and workers, their cars all parked in a row, the front doors to the store shut with a "not open" sign stuck upon the glass for morning customers with a seat place before it. A middle aged couple stood outside waiting, the guy staring at his watch; probably watching the seconds tick by.

Turning off the ignition Sam took deep steady breaths to calm his anger as he rubbed at the Mark.

"I've told you already, he can already get into my head. And besides I didn't ask for him to help me Dean, he just does. I don't have a choice in this."

Dean blew out air from his mouth loudly and shook his head. "Shit I'm sorry Sam. I'm just worried okay. I know you don't have any control of what he does."

Sam watched as the front doors to the SuperMart opened and a uniformed man dressed in the store's bold red colour came out to remove the seat. The couple quickly walked inside.

Dean looked out through the windshield unseeingly. He thought about how his brother's eye colour had changed that night. "Lucifer has done something else to you, I'm sure of it."

Sam head turned to the right to look at Dean. "What do you mean?"

"Your eyes, they changed colour, Sam. That only happened to me when I died and came back a Demon." Dean's throat clogged up as he saw the flicker of fear in his brother's eyes.

"No, God… Damn-it no!" Sam punched the steering wheel. This was going from _very_ bad to worse. The brothers sat there breathing loudly. Other cars began to pull into the parking lot; the occupants walking away from their vehicles and disappearing behind the store front doors.

Sam broke the silence. "I'm tired Dean." Dean turned to look at his brother. His eyes were full and his lips were pressed together. "Tired of my life revolving around what others want me to become. Hell… Heaven. And the worst part is I don't see an end to it." Sam blew a weary sigh.

Dean didn't know what to say to that. Instead he placed a strong comforting hand upon his shoulder blades and remained silent.

 **...**

Sam sat at his bedroom desk, reading downloaded scripture on his laptop. His door stood slightly ajar, enough for Dean to see him working at his desk. Dean knocked thrice and could just about see Sam's head swivel towards the sound. "Come in." Sam called.

Dean pushed the door further open and walked inside.

A small encouraging smile played at the corner of Dean's lips as he treaded towards his brother with manly swagger. Sam felt a sudden pang of irritation; a sudden dark urge struck him to go up to Dean and rip the stupid smile off of his face. The images of that scene played out before his eyes and Dean's deep voice interrupted them and brought him back to reality. ' _Shit! What the hell?'_

"The Devil may have his ways, but I've got mine." Sam frowned and looked at a few sheets of print paper held in his brother's hand. Dean placed them before him on top of his laptop keyboard.

"What's this?" Sam asked curiously staring at his brother's scrawl in blue ink.

"This, my brother, is a "How to and not to do" list on how I dealt with the Mark. Also this," Dean pulled a piece of paper behind the first and placed it under Sam's nose. "is a list of the things that you may go through. From nightmares, to mental strain, anything I could remember from what Iwent through to help you figure it out for yourself."

Sam looked at his brother in surprise. "Wow. Thanks Dean." He could still imagine the image of ripping his brother's face off. He blinked a few more to times to get rid of it.

Dean stared at the paper. "It's my pleasure." Sam looked down at his lap.

"I know this must be difficult for you. It wasn't that long ago you had to deal with this curse and now you have to watch me turn into—."

Dean shook his head. "Don't. We're gonna do whatever it takes to not let it go down that road. We can't let that happen, understand me?" Dean pressed staring unwaveringly into his brothers eyes. Sam nodded.

Dean took a step back, satisfied. "Good." He walked away and closed the door behind him.

 **...**

Sam stayed up 'till the early hours of the morning reading and contemplating what his brother had written for him. Dean had put a lot of effort and detail into his experience with the Mark; it was almost like Sam had written it himself. Dean knew how his mind worked and was grateful for his brother effort.

That evening he noticed a restlessness as though he was on a constant high on caffeine. He could feel it coursing in his veins. The bruise that Dean had given him many hours earlier was completely healed as though it was never there to begin with. Dean had written down in note form that the Mark was good at healing. Sam analysed every emotion to each thought that popped into his head. It was exhausting but yet he was wired and compared them to the notes, typing up his own in a Word document labelled "The Mark".

Sam pushed himself from out of his seat and stretched, stepped away from his desk and laid out on his back on his bed. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he tried to empty his mind and calm his body. The buzz didn't lesson. In fact noticing it made its feeling grow evermore nagging.

Sam sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. Tugging on the strands he contemplated resorting to the family doctor – alcohol. He gave in. Going into one of his drawers, he found his safe keeping whisky and began pouring himself four neat shots of loose handed whiskey using the glass he always kept with it. He knocked each one back and then slumped back onto his bed and concentrated on his breathing again. He could feel its heat burning down his oesophagus. His body finally relaxed as the alcohol began to take effect.

Afterwards, he nodded off, his head resting in the crook of his arm as he slept deeply on his bed.

 **.**

Lucifer stood over The Darkness, his magnificent true form glowing bright, his shine pushing her Darkness down into the Earth itself. All around was loud, like thunder but much louder, the air full of static electricity. Michael, Gabriel and many other Angels from other garrisons stood behind in their true forms, their fierce Grace helping their brother defeat the Darkness. She was strong; Lucifer could feel it with every pulse of his Grace he sent forth. In his hand he held a sword, made from the Grace of his Father, his own and with a piece of the Universe. It was the most brilliant thing to look at. Holding out his sword, with one final pulse, Lucifer held the sword with both "hands" by the handle tight and struck her straight through the heart. Instantly he could feel her pain of betrayal as he was connected to her; the Mark imprinted onto his Grace. But for his Father to complete his Creation, he had to do what needed to be done. He loved his Father most.

As the sword struck her in her she screamed loud, louder than anything to be ever heard. It vibrated throughout the Angels and struck them to their core. After all, she was a part of God as he was a part of Her. The loudness quietened but the electrical buzz remained.

She disappeared before them. Lucifer wilted. Michael rushed over to hold onto his brother, trying to heal him even though he was exhausted himself. Lucifer cried, screaming a feral scream.

…

Dean's brain woke him up at an ungodly hour of the morning from its buzzing stress from daily thoughts that invaded his dreams about the things he had done when he had the Mark; the worry about how to deal with the problem of Amara and their "connection" and the obvious one; that his brother would have to deal with the same corruption that he had gone through but with the real Lucifer whispering in his ear. How was he going to protect him from this _this_ time? Dean was mentally exhausted; it was a wonder how he hadn't blown his own brains out – maybe if he had years ago after Sam's (first) death, none of this mess would have happened.

It had been a while since he had the Mark, but he could remember how each moment felt; how difficult is was to compartmentalise every emotion - how they all slowly seemed to diminish until all that was left was deep seated hatred for himself, his brother and the world. He also almost murdered Sam twice and beat Castiel to an inch of his life. They were the most despicable things he had ever done throughout that time. He couldn't forgive himself and he didn't want forgiveness.

It was Lunchtime and the brother's decided (Dean instigated) to go out for lunch instead. Stepping into a pizza restaurant, Sam and Dean took the large cubical seats by the window. A young female waitress named "Amber" (her name written on sticker and placed upon her clothes upon her breast) handed them each a menu,which Dean instantly buried his nose into. They ordered garlic bread and chilli wedges, a medium Vegetarian pizza for Sam and a large Meat Lover's Pizza with cheese filled crusts for Dean (which Sam turned his nose in disgust) with a litre bottle of water and beer for Dean.

Sam's leg bounced up and down frantically under the table and after waiting ten minutes for their starters on a grumbling stomach, in his annoyance, Dean kicked him in the shin.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Dean looked at him flatly, placing his empty beer bottle on the table after finishing it off. Dean couldn't believe that Sam had the nerve to be angry.

"If you need to go to the toilet, go already!" Dean whispered angrily.

Sam frowned. "I don't need to go to the toilet _Dean_."

Dean huffed angrily. "Then what's with the nee?"

Amber the waitress arrived with their garlic bread and wedges and placed them on the table. Dean ordered another beer.

"I'm just restless. Didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Well try to stop. You're bugging me out here." Dean stuffed placed a few wedges on a slice of garlic bread and rolled its edges, trying to eat it like mini sandwich.

Dean's voice deepened from as he spoke with his mouth full. "What did you dream about last night?"

Sam turned his head to the side then looked around the restaurant. A trio of two young women and a male sat afar munching on their meals, the sound of their voices a hum. Sam imagined suffocating them by pressing their faces into their food until they stopped thrashing. Sam bit at his fingers.

"Sam?"

Sam stood up and walked away towards the restroom.

 **.**

Sam paced back and forth in front of the empty male cubicles with both hands shaking. He felt like he could explode any which way. He stopped to wash his hands in scolding water, paper towelled them and began pacing again. It was reminiscent to when he drank Demon blood, but he didn't have the urge only the feeling of needing to release built up tension and energy. He had too much energy, more than he knew to deal with. He tried to steady his fast ragged breathing but his mind wasn't able to concentrate. Trying to stand still wasn't working. He needed to… get out! ' _No, Dean would worry'_. Instead he washed his hands and dried them again and forced his legs to do what he wanted, steering him towards his seat towards Dean. He could see his Veggie Pizza already placed at the table waiting for him and Dean munching on his own third slice. A family table which was empty earlier was occupied by three young children (two boys and a girl) a women that looked to be their mother and an older lady, which Sam had assumed to be the Grandmother to the children.

Sitting down in a huff before his pizza, Sam watched with little amusement as Deans cheeks where filled beyond their healthy capacity. With one big gulp and a glug of his beer, Dean wiped his fingers on a napkin and stared at Sam who although was eating he was still buzzed with energy.

"You okay? You're shaking."

Sam could barely concentrate. It took all of his effort not to run out of the pizzeria and do _something_ -anything other than sitting and eating. Sam forced his head to nod, filling his mouth with pizza as an excuse not to speak. He remembered last evening reading his brother's notes and the things Dean had written that helped him get through. Sam had tried a few that he could remember; keeping focused on the present, paying attention to his emotions and rationalisation. He remembered how pent up he was that evening and how alcohol took the edge off. Dean had also written to stay clear of alcohol.

Dean smiled and leaned back in his seat.

"This pizza is awesome! I bet'cha Death would love it too." Dean chuckled and leaned forward. Sam smiled tightly.

"Next time we need a favour from Death we'll come here for his grub."

Sam couldn't take another second like this. He could hear the children from the family table playing as they went from giggling to whining at each other louder than what was thought natural; the light coming in through the window were the brother's sat was beaming much too brightly. The food he chewed on was loud in his own ears. He needed a drink.

Sam waved Amber to come over as she picked up a desert bowl from the trio as they continued to converse and she headed towards him. Standing before him he thought she was quite cute. She was slim, average height; her face was covered in freckles, blue eyed, strawberry-blond hair with a messy bun. Her lips were full and they smiled nice. Any other time he thought he would enjoy her company under the sheets, but right then he had a single incentive and that was to gain some semblance of self control. Dean noticed how her cheeks pinked a little as Sam stared a little too long.

"How can I help you sir?" She asked.

Sam pointed towards Dean's beer bottle and asked for the same. She nodded and walked off.

"So you gonna ask her for her number?" Dean asked all curious with a sly grin.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Just saying she was diggin' you man. Why not?"

Sam huffed. "I'm not interested."

"Well I think you should be. Might give a good night's sleep for once."

The children at the table began giggling loudly and two of them ran around tables and chairs as though they were at home. The "mother" would call for them to sit and calm down but the children ignored them and so she carried on chatting with "Grandmother" allowing them to continue behaving like puppies. Sam felt a sudden pang of irritation.

Amber came back with Sam's ordered beverage and Sam finished it in one right in front of her and ordered for more. Dean watched, finishing off his pizza and the last of the chilli wedges, unnerved by his brother's behaviour. He remembered the last couple of nights hearing the sound of his brother in the middle of a nightmare; the last he had was the worst. He had screamed and the Mark was burning fierce as he tried his best to wake his brother up. It was obvious to Dean that Sam had no recollection of it.

The children ran past, one of them almost tripping over a seat leg and falling face first. Dean caught him in time. Sam pushed his plate aside, half of his meal left uneaten and continued to drink his 7th beer, releasing oxygen from his lungs letting out the tension from his shoulders as slowly felt the numb calm.

Dean held both the children's hands and guided them over to their table, the mother watching in awe as he managed to get all three of them to settle down and behave. The Grandmother thanked him, smiling and Dean sauntered away from them and back to his seat.

"You see that brother?" Dean asked with a smug look.

"What?" Sam replied, staring his table.

"What do ya mean what? I totally cracked the whip on those kids man."

"Wasn't really listening." Sam said, disinterested.

Dean looked at the leftovers.

"You gonna finish that?" Dean asked Sam pointing at his pizza. Sam shook his head. "Alright, I'm gona go pay the bill and have it boxed up to go. Can't be wasting good food." Dean made to stand up.

"Those kids over there…" Sam looked up to look at Dean. "They were aggravating."

Dean smiled. "Well it's a good thing I handled it then. Do I get a thanks?" He joked.

"That family and their inconsideration…" Sam carried on. "I imagined going over there and slaughtering every last one of them." Sam ran a hand through his hair slowly, his eyes were distant. "I can still see it now. I think I actually would have done it if you hadn't intervened Dean."

Dean hid his dread. "Well… thank God for that." He replied and walked off to pay the bill.

…

"I think you being flat-out honest is our best bet." Dean said, seated in the driver's seat. "You start feeling like you're gonna blow off the handle and go psycho—you tell me."

Dean stopped the car at a zebra crossing to let someone pass and then continued on driving. "You wanting to kill an innocent family is messed up. So God knows what would have happened if it hadn't gone down the way it did."

"I get it Dean, I read the notes. Some things I relate to you on but, I don't know. There's this nagging feeling I have and it's not just the rage, it's… the only way I can describe it is, it's like _Power_."

Dean frowned. "Power?" he questioned.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, but it's like I have too much of it and it leaves me shaky. Alcohol takes off the edge."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. I think it's something to do with what Lucifer…" Sam stopped himself from speaking further.

Dean turned a quick eye at his brother questioning. "What did Lucifer say Sam?" Dean pressed.

"I." Sam clasped his hands together and stared at them. He could feel the car slowing down and moving to the left side as Dean made to park on lay-by on the highway. A few cars drove past.

All was heard was the sound of their breathing as Dean waited for his brother to continue. The alcohol hummed in the back of his head but it did nothing to settle his nerves for what he was about to tell his brother.

"Lucifer said that I have his Grace—."

Dean's eyes widened. " _What_!"

"Well only some of it. And um, that the Demon blood has been awakened from it, so I have my powers back. But they're tenfold. He wants to help me with it."

"How the _hell_ did you get his Grace Sam?" Dean asked, incredulously.

"It was given to me through the Mark. It's all part of the plan."

"What plan?" Dean shook his head. He was mad. "You better start explaining Sam! God, this is worse than I thought, especially with you keeping this from me!"

"Well I didn't know how to tell you! I wasn't even sure of it myself at the time!"

"You could have just said!"

"Well you know now, Dean!"

The brothers huffed angrily staring each other down.

"What else should I know that I don't Sam?"

Sam looked away and rocked his jaw. Dean watched as he began rubbing at the Mark. His lips parted to speak. "There's a sword. It's Lucifer's – he used it to defeat Amara and he told me I'm the only one except for him that can use it. I'm trying to find it, but I haven't had much luck so far. It's partly why he gave me the Mark and a part of his Grace."

"And you've been doing this right under my nose?" It wasn't a question, more of an accusation.

"Yeah." Sam replied defeated.

Dean sighed and dragged a hand down his face. ' _I shouldn't be angry'_. "You're right, I know now. Now all we gotta figure out is how to deal with this."

…

Tell me your thoughts on this chapter. Thanks!


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